Supernatural: Hell's Angels
Chapter One: Four Years Later...
~Yay the second part! I plan on uploading a new chapter everyday, but please understand that this is not always possible. Always give me reviews, suggestions, and questions, I will answer them all, and it also helps me write! I love questions xD So without further ado, I give you Chapter One: Four Years Later! ~
Four years later...
Sam's POV:
Sometimes I can't help but ask myself if I made the right choice, coming with Dean. We have come close to death to many times, and after Dad died, I regret this journey even more. On the other side, I have Dean, Lyla, hell, even Cas sometimes. Dealing with angels and demons isn't the way this should be. We should be fighting ghosts, and werewolves, and vampires; but we have to do what we have to do. Dean caught me daydreaming, and decided to interrupt it with conversation.
"Hey, you alive over there?" Dean questioned.
"Uh, yeah. Just, thinking." I responded, sitting up and adjusting my eyes.
"So I say we hit up a diner, there's one three miles ahead. I hear they have great burgers."
"Alright. I'm starving."
"Do they have fries?" Lyla interjected. I don't know what started this obsession she has with fries, but whenever we head out to eat, Dean orders a burger, and Lyla orders just a side of fries. Then, Dean gives her the fries off of his plate. It's like routine for them.
"Every diner has fries, and if they don't, they don't have business. It's what makes this country so great." Dean explained.
"Fries make this country great? I can respect that." Lyla understood. Since Lyla isn't from Earth, she doesn't know much of anything. Even with four years of being here, she still doesn't know everything she should know, or need to know at that. It's impossible to teach her everything, even to this day, every conversation we have raises questions in that curious mind.
When we arrived at the diner, we were escorted to our table by a fairly tall, fairly attractive brunette woman. Her name tag said: "Cindy". I could tell by the way Dean was eyeing her up, that this would be an uncomfortable dinner.
Cindy seated us and asked, "What can I get ya'll to drink?". She was very southern, which was strange considering we were in Ohio.
"Water with lemon, please?" I ordered.
"Same for me." Lyla ordered also. She like particularly healthy food, except for her fry addiction.
"Coke, please, uh... Cindy." Dean ordered, with a grin and a wink. I rolled my eyes then looked to Lyla, who was attempting to make the spoon stick to her nose, something Dean had showed her how to do.
"Be right back." Cindy stated as she smiled back at Dean, then turned on her heel to fetch our drinks. Dean then turned to me and claimed, "Did you see the legs on that waitress?". Typical Dean. He never really had the time to appreciate the finer values in a woman, like sense of humor, intelligence, or personality. For him it was all about bust and legs; but if I was to be quite honest, I did sort of have a thing for Lyla. She was quite short, wasn't very smart, and rarely understood anything anyone was saying, but she had a kind heart, and a childlike spirit. I don't know what it was, but I was drawn to her. Maybe it was because she reminded me of Jessica, minus the intelligence. Running of track Dean attempted to gain my attention again.
"So anything we should be.. yanno.. involved in?" Dean asked. I snapped back to reality and pulled out my laptop.
"Yes, actually. I found this this morning. Thackery Middle School, 3 students murdered in their music classroom in the past month."
"So, what makes you think this is a job for us?" Dean questioned.
"There are no signs of struggle, or injury. They all happened late at night, after school hours too. Plus, it's a little ironic how all three deaths occurred in their music classroom." I replied.
"That does sound like a job for us." He agreed. Then, Cindy had returned with our drinks.
"Here, ya'll go." She said as she handed out the cups, and smoothly slid a piece of paper to Dean, and winked. Dean unfolded the piece of paper containing the waitresses phone number, and nonchalantly winked back. "Now what can I get ya'll to eat?"
Dean's POV:
Sam, Lyla, and I arrived at the high school around lunchtime the next day. An older police man approached us and eyed us up.
"This area of the school is off limits." The cop said harshly.
"Agent Tyler, this is agent Perry, and agent Mercury." I interrupted, flashing my badge in unison with Sam and Lyla.
"Hmm, what does the FBI have to do with this?" The cop asked, suspicious.
"Just following orders." Lyla interjected. She learns from me and Sam well.
"Alright, go ahead. I got my eye on you three." The cop said as he stepped aside. The three of us exchanged looks and stepped inside. I turned to Lyla and said under my breath, "Cranky son of a bitch, wasn't he?". Lyla giggled, and Sam shot me a look, that look he gives me when I am not being professional. We approached the body. Sam was right. No sign of struggle. No sign of injury. What was this? The same cop from earlier approached us.
"There are some students in the library waiting to be questioned. My upper wanted me to fetch you three to question them, since we are finished. I still smell something fishy about you guys." He said with his eyes squinted.
"Look here, uh..." I started.
"Solomon."
"Okay. Look here... Solomon... We are just doing our job. We aren't looking for trouble. We just want to find the sicko killing off these kids, don't you?" I tried reassuring the old man. He looked up at me, then down to his feet.
"Y-yeah." He responded shyly. He turned and walked away, leading us to the library. I looked to Sam, and he just shrug his shoulders.
When we arrived in the library, there was a teenage girl sitting at one of the tables. We approached her, and Sam sat in the chair to question her, while me and Lyla observed.
"How did you know the victim?" Sam asked her.
"Her name was Jenny. She was my best friend." The girl responded with a shaky voice.
"I am sorry to hear what happened to Jenny. What about you, what's your name?"
"Danielle. Are you guys going to find who did this?"
"We are going to try our best. Did Jenny have any enemies, or anyone that might try to hurt her?"
"No. Not at all. Everyone loved Jen. She volunteered, she tutored. She was part of the choir and orchestra, she a gifted musician. But there was one thing..."
"What is that, Danielle, any bit of information will help us." Sam reassured her.
"She complained of headaches a few days before she died. Jen always said it sounded like a violin was playing in her head. She told me it got louder and louder by the minute. Do you think she was drugged?" Danielle explained with tears in her eyes.
"I don't know, but we will find out, I promise." Sam comforted her.
On the way out of the school, Sam looked distraught. He stopped walking and turned to me.
"Do you think all the victims had the same symptom before they were killed? Like, it was the noise that killed them?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. The only way to find out is to do research and ask friends or family of the other victims." I replied.
"Alright, I'll start research, you and Lyla go talk to other witnesses."
Me and Lyla knocked on the door of the Sanders household, the parents of the first victim. The house was very small, lower class. The grass was dead, and the porch creaked, these people obviously had money issues. A woman opened the door. She was rather lanky, and tired and sick looking. She walked with a cane, even though she looked to only be about 40.
"Mrs. Sanders? FBI, we are here to ask you a few questions about your son, Joaquin." I stated as Lyla and I flashed our badges.
"I already talked to the police, so unless you have something to tell me about the asshole who killed my son, you can just leave." She snapped, with a shaky voice and tears in her eyes.
"Please, Mrs. Sanders, right now you are the only one who can help us find out who did this." Lyla persuaded. And again, she learns well.
"Alright." Mrs. Sanders ushers us to the living room. The floor boards creek with every step, and it appears that the paint is chipping from the walls. We move to the couch, and Mrs. Sanders eases into the chair, which appears to be torn up by a dog maybe.
"Mrs. Sanders-" I begin.
"Please, call me Beth." She interrupts.
"My apologies, Beth. What can you tell me about Joaquin?"
"He was a good boy. He was smart too. As you can probably tell, we aren't in the best financial situation. I can't work because I am terribly sick, so he went to work at the grocery store, stocking cans all day after school, to pay rent and my medical bills, the ones that we could pay, anyways. He took care of me, and his father, before he passed in Iraq."
"He sounds like a gift from God." Lyla complimented.
"He really was." Beth began to sob.
"Did he happen to be involved in choir, or band, maybe the orchestra at school?" I asked.
"Oh yes! He was a gifted violinist. He was rarely ever able to make concerts, but he enjoyed going to class during the day."
Okay so that's the end of this chapter :3 I really want to write more, so I will probably upload more today. Please please please, review, suggest, and question. It means a lot and thanks for reading! ~~